


Killer's Bodyguard

by kurisu80



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Mafia AU, Slow Burn, warning applies to anything following chapter 3
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-02 10:03:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19196635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurisu80/pseuds/kurisu80
Summary: Staring into the eyes of a man he hasn't seen in so long, he wondered how this all happened and why he was the one to be picked up from the streets.





	1. You're hired

**Author's Note:**

> yes I did steal that title from the movie just because it fits, it's got nothing to do with the movie tho shfosd

It was such a foolish idea of me to accept the invitation, flooded his mind. Cold water hit his freshly shaved face and dripped down his square chin when he looked up and into the mirror. Staring into the eyes of a man he hasn't seen in so long, he wondered how this all happened and why he was the one to be picked up from the streets.

 

Fingertips ran over smooth skin, a feeling that was almost unknown to him after such a long time walking around with a scruffy beard. Next the hair, he took the knife from the sink and cut off split ends as much as he could, gave himself an okay looking short cut. The blond washed the hair down the drain and observed himself once more in the mirror. It didn't help that smears of lipstick, edding and who knew what was covering half the mirror but the gas station was the nearest place he could change in. 

Stepping back he looked down on himself and buttoned the suit jacket, corrected the poorly tied tie, and dusted off a few stray hairs. 

 

How the stranger was able to tell his correct size for a perfectly fitting suit was beyond his understanding but it was the fanciest, most expensive item he now owned and he was thankful for that. His old shirt, the coat and ripped jeans had seen better days. 

 

“Your name is Steve Rogers and- Your name is Steve, Steve Rogers”, he repeated his name multiple times to boost his confidence but lost the train of thought mid sentence. 

 

“Whatever you do, don't get killed.” Wise words, truly. One more sigh, a few pats on his own shoulder and he believed to be ready. This wasn't some sort of meeting with death himself, just a friendly invitation. Into the mansion of a filthy rich man with armed bodyguards and intentions for Steve the blond could only fantasize about. Yeah, it’s a meeting with death himself. 

 

He walked about half a mile and was greeted by a beautiful piece of architecture peeking through rows upon rows of perfectly shaped trees and bushes. Tall black bars, guarding dogs and men all around fenced the house from the outer world. Steve’s palms felt sweaty all of a sudden, his heartbeat was slowly raising. He stepped closer with clenched fists, buried his hands in his pockets instead to hide the fear, and puffed his chest as best as he could. 

 

“Where do you think you’re going?” One of the men held up a hand and pierced Steve with looks that could kill. 

 

“Stark asked me to pay a visit”, he grunted with a dry throat and was surprised to not have stuttered for once. 

 

He was given weird looks again but after another guy next to him touched his earpiece, probably listening to a voice from the other end, he nodded and Steve was let in. 

 

Long wide corridors, white marmor all around, expensive paintings and other pieces of art on each side of the walls lead Steve to a tall wooden door. This was it, he thought, that will be the light at the end of the tunnel once this door opens, he sweats and swore he could feel his heart bounce on his tongue. He wanted to leave but two burly men in black behind him would certainly make sure he was never going to leave this house ever again. Steve had never been too afraid to run but it had cost him so much more than a blue eye getting back up after men and women of high power stepped on him. He was trying so hard not to puke, he didn’t even realize that he was now standing on the other side of the hell gate. 

 

He was surprised to find a rather welcoming and warm presence behind the mahogany desk. The room was lit well with a hint of orange, recreating a nice aura of sunlight and there was music playing. Some kind of rock, it was too quiet to pinpoint. The man, who must’ve been Stark, stood from his comfortable looking chair and spread his arms. 

 

“Ah, you came!” The excitement in his voice was more than confusing. Steve couldn't tell if it was genuine excitement or some kind of game he was going to play and probably lose. 

 

“I see, I’ve got the perfect eye for measurements, I knew you would look fantastic in a good suit.” Steve knitted his brows. Was he serious? 

 

“Please, sit down. We have a lot to talk about, hm, what was your name again?” 

 

“Rogers, my name’s Steve Rogers” 

 

“Steve, correct. Will you, mh?” Stark gestured to the empty seat on the other side of the desk and Steve accepted the request. He still wasn't sure what exactly he got himself into, who that man was and what he wanted. Most importantly, what it would cost Steve. His blue eyes tried to look for eye contact but these red tinted glasses really didn’t make it too easy for him. Who even wears sunglasses inside? 

 

“Why am I here?” Steve didn’t beat around the bush and wanted answers. 

 

“Because I ordered you here, easy.”

 

“You know that’s not what I meant. Why me out of all people?” 

 

Stark leaned back in the chair, attempted to bite his nail and gave Steve a crooked smile. 

 

“You don't really care for a little bit of small talk, do you? That’s fair”, he adjusted himself in the seat and leaned over the armrest the other way. “Well, I saw how you move back in that alley, you know, when you practically saved my ass from a silly little robber, and I liked it, so much that I want you to work for me.” 

 

Steve blushed in discomfort as he didn't know if the double meaning was intentional or not, if he is actually here for his fighting abilities or to simply satisfy Stark’s sick fantasies. He looked away for a second and fumbled with the tie. 

 

“I’m no piece of meat to be ordered around.” 

 

“If there’s one thing everyone should know it’s that I always get what I want and that happens to be you. Steve, I’m giving you the opportunity to become a man with human rights again, to have a roof above your head, food, water and clothes. All you have to do is to protect the head of Stark Industries no matter what and no matter when. Use what you were trained for, Soldier.”

 

Steve's eyes widened an inch at the mention of his training as a former soldier. He started to wonder, if he knew about his past career, what else does this man know about him. Steve felt insecure but transformed this feeling into anger and expressed such with a stern look on his face. 

 

“What do you know about me? How much do you know?” 

 

“I know enough. You still have your little secrets, dumbbell, don’t worry. Your diary is safe. Back to the important business; There is a room empty and ready for you to move into, previous roommate just moved out recently and by moved out, I mean kicked out. I killed him. Anyway, besides the point.”

 

Stark was kneading his nose bridge for a second, then took his glasses off and leaned on the desk to have an intense stare contest with Steve. “I’m not planning on killing you anytime soon, if ever. I know this might seem rushed but I like you, Rogers, something about you really struck my cold beating heart and I’m asking for your help here. In return you will get whatever you wish for.” A smile widened across his face. Steve would never understand this man, he could already tell, but was it worth it? He’s got nothing to lose, literally, not even his dignity. He’s in desperate need for a place to sleep at, wouldn’t have stepped a foot near this place if that wasn't the case. Friends or family are not a thing anymore either, it was just him and him alone against the world. 

 

“Really whatever I wish for?” 

 

“Certainly, my dear. Besides contact to the outside, you may never speak of this or I’m forced to kick you out, if you get what I’m saying. And I don’t want to do that, hm.” 

 

“First rule of the Fight Club”, Steve mumbled under his breath. There was a long pause, a silence that wasn't much more uncomfortable than one between friends, oddly. 

 

“When do I start?” 

 

“Delightful” Stark’s smile grew wider and he jumped off the chair to walk around the desk and behind Steve. Firm hands were placed on both his shoulders.

 

“Now.” 

 

And the deal was settled. Steve was from there on Tony Stark's bodyguard, following him wherever he went. 


	2. Just do it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Just do it.” The man’s brows twitched and the way he said it was clearly a hint that he knew this was the only way to get Tony off of Steve’s dick.

 

It's been one month since the day he's sat in that unsettlingly comfortable chair giving up everything to serve one man who could snap him out of existence just because he felt like it. 

 

It wasn't a very eventful month, just a lot of training and sitting around and training some more trying to convince Rhodey, one of Tony's specials, he's not a snitch or mole from another gang. Steve found it amusing but didn't push his luck all that much. Steve's grown accustomed to everyone's attitude and has gotten enough confidence since the first day to snap back at comments that were uncalled for. He had realized how important he was to Stark, or he'd like to imagine because he's still alive after all the shit he's said so far.

 

He's also come to notice Tony's frequent visits at the gym. Mob boss doesn't lift a finger himself, has someone to hold his damn straw in place. He's there to watch Steve throw fists and sweat like a pig. Steve wasn't so sure what to think of it and the uncertainty if he likes or hates the attention bothers him more than having a clear answer. 

 

"You're holding back too much, sweetheart. Let it all out!" 

 

Steve stopped his flying fist mid-motion and turned to watch Tony "I love stalking my prey" Stark lean into one side of his chair, tongue playing with the straw in his iced tea and red tinted glasses sat on a perfect nose bridge. Steve hated the glasses so much, wanted to punch them off his face so badly so he could look him in the eyes just once. 

 

" 'cuse me, Sir?" 

 

Tony made a few ransom gestures in the air. 

 

"You never actually let those knuckles hit something. He's hit you before tho, aint that right?" 

 

Steve and this random dude he's been training with exchanged looks. The guy shrugged and nodded while Steve wasn't sure what he was asked to do. Was he supposed to actually beat him up? Didn't even know his damn name. 

 

"Well, I didn't wanna kill one of yours first day I got here." Steve very obviously and blatantly hinted how good he thought of his fighting skills and Tony seemed to respond well to it. Stark chuckled. 

 

"I like you, Rogers" 

 

"Yeah, you mentioned. Multiple times." 

Steve had looked away when he said it. He hated how good he felt hearing those words every single day. It was a burden almost. 

 

“Just do it.” The man’s brows twitched and the way he said it was clearly a hint that he knew this was the only way to get Tony off of Steve’s dick. Steve hesitated another minute before he finally raised his fists. His opponent made the first move and stepped forward but Steve was quick to react, dodge the punch and knock him out with an uppercut. It was not a satisfying feeling, especially because of how quickly this ended. 

 

Tony celebrated it like it was a WWE champion gone down and clapped his hands cheering. 

 

“That’s my boy.” 

 

Steve helped the other man up and called for a break. Enough was enough. Tony had left before he could even finish his sentence, off to probably stalk some of his other pets. 

  
  


“Sorry, man. You okay?” Steve approached bloody nose champion with a fresh towel once they were alone in the changing room. 

 

“Yeah, I chose to go down, anyway. So don't think you won a round.” Steve couldn’t help but chuckle. Why was that a very expected response? 

 

“I’m Steve, by the way.”  He held out the towel instead of his hand and the other took it, thanking him. 

 

“Sam but I guess my new name’s gonna be pussy from now on. Beaten by the new guy, un-fucking-believable.” Sam scoffed but followed it with a smile to defuse any potential of Steve taking it wrong. 

There was no misunderstanding. Steve sat down next to him on the bench for a while. This might be his chance to finally have someone on his side, possibly make a friend. Making friends with gang members sounds idiotic but he seriously needed someone he could go to, even if it was for a silly chat about new pop songs. Plus, using his reflection as a therapist was not working anymore. 

 

He’s tried going to Stark once but he shushed him out of his room immediately, telling him he could take some cash and go to a therapist. It hurt but what was he to expect from a mafia head. Steve has since told himself Tony wouldn’t want to hear about personal things. Sometimes assuming is all he allowed himself to do. 

 

“Why’re you here, huh?”    
Steve was taken by surprise with that question. It sounded hostile but he tried his best to stay positive. 

  
“Sounds like you don’t want me here.” 

 

Sam was the one to chuckle that time and held his hands up. “No bad spirits, man. Just curious. You don’t look like you belong here, yknow. Too-” He drew circles with his finger around Steve’s aura. “Nice. Don’t look like you could hurt a fly even if it threatened you.”    
  
A weird way of saying it, Steve thought. If only you knew, the thought continued as he looked away for a moment. “Looks can be deceiving and you don’t know me. I just simply don’t feel like punching dudes who’ve done nothing wrong to me.”    
  
“I’m trying to get to know you, dumbass.”   
Sam put the stained towel away and turned a little to face Steve properly. He reached out a hand. “Sam Wilson, pleasure meetin’ you.” 

 

Steve, confused as always but amused nonetheless, took the welcoming hand and laughed. “Steve Rogers. Pleasure’s all mine.”

 

“Well, we better go back to whatever the fuck we’re supposed to be doing or Tony might snipe us. I’ll see you around, Rogers.” 

 

With that Sam left the room to take a much-needed shower and change. Steve sat there for a few more minutes before following and soon returning to Rhodey who already had new time wasters on a whiteboard for him. 


	3. Weakness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve would have loved to repeat the night before, sharing personal things, weak moments but Tony didn't look like he was on board with that idea.

It sounded like hell broke loose outside the comforting walls of Stark Mansion. Heavy rain creating a soothing white noise which peaceful sounds were broken every now and then by aggressive lightning and thunder. Tony is not one to be scared of many things. He risked his life day in and day out with all sorts of threats waiting outside his imposing gates but thunderstorms? Not his favorite. Especially not when they were right above his head, making him flinch every time a new thunder rolled through thick clouds. 

 

Steve on the other end was more bothered than scared. His brain was no fan of white noise. It kept him up at night much like that one. So instead of laying in his cozy twin bed surrounded by items he never asked for but got anyway, he went for a walk through the mansion. It was big enough to get lost and film a new Blair Witch project in. Eventually, he came across the dimly lit kitchen and spotted Tony sitting on the countertop island with his wine-red robe on. Steve was surprised to see him awake and in the kitchen all alone. He almost seemed like a normal human being. Strange. 

 

"Can't sleep?" Steve stopped at the doorway and crossed his arms. That's when Tony actually noticed him and turned around. His hair disheveled and a newly filled wine glass in hand. 

 

"Looks like I'm not the only one." 

 

Tony looked at Steve and then at his precious wine and back at Steve before gulping down what's left of one fine bottle of white wine. 

 

"Why are you up?" 

 

The look on Stark's face told Steve "Isn't it fucking obvious why?" but Tony didn't even get to speak his words when another surprisingly loud thunder shook the house. He squealed and flinched again, then sighed deeply and shifted around to sit on the other side of the counter towards Steve. 

 

"Why do you think? Fuckin' hate these storms. Make me cry like a damn child and I can't do anything about it." 

Steve had since moved from his spot to be leaning his lower back against white Marmor next to Tony. Tony poked his shoulder with so much fierce it actually hurt a little.

 

"Don't you dare tell anybody about this shit. Only Rhodey knows my weakness but I guess you do too now. What are you doing sneaking around this place, anyway?" 

 

Steve just smiled up at him and made the 'my lips are sealed' gesture before shrugging. 

 

"Noises are too much, can't focus."

 

"Focus on what? Counting sheep?" 

 

"More or less. I just can't sleep, is all and it's not like you would care."

 

Tony felt a stab in his heart. Might have been the rush of getting the alcohol into his bloodstream, might also be him realizing how much Steve hated him. Both. It was both. 

 

The rain ceased for a solid minute and hope of silence was there but then it grew louder again with a few more timid growls in the distance. Tony grabbed the bottle and looked inside as if that would make more wine appear. The alcohol really heated his body for good and made him sleepier by the second but not quite sleepy enough to call it a night. 

A deep sigh caught Steve's attention. 

 

"You got more of that where it came from? I could really use a glass right now." 

 

Steve expected a witty comment about how he had to earn that glass by doing some ridiculous shit like singing a lullaby or draw his favorite dinosaur but Tony just nodded and pointed to a wine shelf behind glass, too obvious to notice. Steve picked a random bottle he thought looked nice and returned. Pointing where he could get a glass from, Tony proceeded to open the wine and fill his. 

 

They shared the whole bottle in a span of maybe thirty minutes, which felt like hours to them, and talked about conspiracies, life and the new Gucci slides Tony desperately needed. 

Only a week earlier Steve thought he would never be able to talk so easily with Stark. It felt like they've known each other for years at that moment. He wasn't sure if it was due to the amount of wine Tony had in his blood or the storms breaking his guards or simply a good day but whatever it was, Steve didn't want it to end. He wanted to keep talking for so many more hours and get to know his personal Jesus. 

 

Slouching over the countertop, he stared at Tony who was facing the other direction. 

 

"Are we gonna return to our bedrooms and wake up to continue to pretend we hate one another?" 

 

"What do you mean?" 

 

"I mean what I said. We've never had a conversation like this, no pressure, no pretending, no lying. Almost like a conversation between friends and not enemies." 

 

Tony chuckled and looked down to Steve. Without thinking he picked a few hair strands flying into Steve's face and brushed them back into place. Steve didn't move. 

 

"Your hair has gotten longer…" 

 

"Tony." 

 

Said man finally made eye contact with Rogers and bent down as much as he could to whisper. A rare sight to see him up close and without the tinted shades. The bodyguard off duty felt his heart pound in his ears. 

 

"I'm not your enemy, Steven. I'm just a human with a fragile ego." Tony smiled sweetly. He then patted his back and slipped off the counter to leave Steve and two empty glasses in the kitchen. The storm had died down and Tony felt his body caving under his needs for sleep. 

 

"And don't even think about cutting your hair", he shouted one last sentence. 

 

Steve waited for the other's footsteps to fade so he could grunt and ruffle his own hair in peace. "What the fuck does that meaaan", he whined. He felt like losing his mind, although it wasn't much of a choice. He's been part of this family for over a month but there is still not a single soul to trust him with a real answer of what's going on or what someone's thinking and he hated it. He deserved to know. 

  
  
  


The next day started abruptly and with a bang. Sam had burst through Steve's door ushering him up like the world was about to end. 

 

"Be down in the lobby by ten and no stupid questions." 

And Steve didn't ask. The early morning proceeded to be a complete mess. Assistants, Bodyguards and other important looking people ran haywire in the lobby and the hallways. Tony was nowhere to be seen. For a moment Rogers had thought something had happened to him. We all knew how a herd without its leader functioned. Not at all. 

 

But it all boiled down to Sam and Rhodey shoving Steve back to the labyrinth of doors to get Stark out of his room. Apparently, the mastermind expected a visit he wasn't looking forward to, his father or wannabe dad, or was it uncle? Something of the sort. Steve never heard of his name but didn't get a chance to annoy everyone for more detail. 

 

Tugging his suit jacket back down and straightening a few folds he knocked on the door. Before he knew it he was standing in front of Tony fixing his tie. He expected to be threatened or the door to never open. 

Tony was clearly in distress, tired and not in his right mind. Steve had watched him rip the previous tie off his neck and throw it to the ground, of course, he had to help. 

Apparently fixing ties was not the only thing he could do. His boss seemed a little more relaxed, almost relieved he was there. 

 

"Would you like to tell me why you're in so much distress?" Steve would have loved to repeat the night before, sharing personal things, weak moments but Tony didn't look like he was on board with that idea. 

 

"I'd rather not, Rogers. Hurry up so we can get this over with." 

 

Not wanting to stir the pot any further Steve complied and stopped the questioning. He'd get his answers eventually. 

Five minutes later and Tony was finally ripped out of his safety bubble and into the lobby where Rhodes was expecting him with a comforting smile. It didn't work that well. Steve, in the meantime, was ordered to stand with Sam at the door. 

 

"So who're we expecting again? Does it always end up in one of you practically dragging Tony out of his room?" Steve couldn't help his curiosity and Sam visibly hated this troublemaker behavior but responded anyway. 

  
  


"Obediah is on his way to pay a visit and yes, it always gets like this when he arrives." 

 

Steve was more than confused. He had never heard of Obediah and wondered how important that guy could really be if he was practically a ghost to him. 

 

"And he is who?" 

 

Sam's eyes widened a bit as if to say there was something wrong with him for not knowing. 

 

"He's the owner of this, all of this, probably the whole world and he pretends to be Stark's dad. Weird situation. The only day even Stark is just one of many. Shit gets tense but you better not make a fucking noise and do whatever he says or we're both dead."

 

"But I thought it belongs to Stark? Y'know Stark Industries and all?" 

 

Sam doesn't answer, makes the stop right now or I'll cut off your head (or whatever normal folks call it) motion when the front gates rolled open and a black Rolls-Royce parked in front of the door seconds later. Sam and Steve jumped into action and walked up to the doors with tinted glasses. All Steve could see was his own face when he opened it. He didn't dare to stare at whoever was stepping out of the vehicle like the next Cruella Deville, he only caught glimpses of a red-tinged suit, a shiny bald head, and some equally shiny shoe tips.

 

Steve kept an open ear as much as he could before they disappeared in Tony's office for a solid hour.  

 

"Tony! So good to see you." Obadiah greeted him with open arms while guards from both sides just waited for the Go to draw weapons. 

 

"'s good to see you, too. Kept me waiting far too long!" Tony accepted the quick hug and kiss on the cheek, left then right, but was visibly uncomfortable. 

 

"Let's grab a drink and talk about business, hm. There are some unsolved ones we need to attend. In private." The older man had a firm grip on Tony's shoulder. 

They were gone immediately after his arrival. 

Steve was itching with curiosity. He needed to know what they were talking about. Unfinished business is never a good ice breaker and it made him worry even though he was told multiple times not to because 'this is real life, there are no happy endings'. 


End file.
